Миссис Дэллоуэй

           Shethoughtoflittleout-of-the-waythings;yetherdresseswereneverqueer.YoucouldwearthematHatfield;atBuckinghamPalace.ShehadwornthematHatfield;atBuckinghamPalace.

           Quietdescendedonher,calm,content,asherneedle,drawingthesilksmoothlytoitsgentlepause,collectedthegreenfoldstogetherandattachedthem,verylightly,tothebelt.Soonasummer’sdaywavescollect,overbalance,andfall;collectandfall;andthewholeworldseemstobesaying“thatisall”moreandmoreponderously,untileventheheartinthebodywhichliesinthesunonthebeachsaystoo,Thatisall.Fearnomore,saystheheart.Fearnomore,saystheheart,committingitsburdentosomesea,whichsighscollectivelyforallsorrows,andrenews,begins,collects,letsfall.Andthebodyalonelistenstothepassingbee;thewavebreaking;thedogbarking,farawaybarkingandbarking.

           “Heavens,thefront-doorbell!”exclaimedClarissa,stayingherneedle.Roused,shelistened.

           “Mrs.Dallowaywillseeme,”saidtheelderlymaninthehall.“Ohyes,shewillseeME,”herepeated,puttingLucyasideverybenevolently,andrunningupstairseversoquickly.“Yes,yes,yes,”hemutteredasheranupstairs.“Shewillseeme.AfterfiveyearsinIndia,Clarissawillseeme.”

           “Whocan—whatcan,”askedMrs.Dalloway(thinkingitwasoutrageoustobeinterruptedateleveno’clockonthemorningofthedayshewasgivingaparty),hearingasteponthestairs.